Life in the Fast Lane
by burninganchors
Summary: AU. Tony wants nothing more than to be on top in the tough world of Las Vegas. Only Roxie, the mysteriously sly woman he's just met, can help him get there. But the thing about Life in the Fast Lane is, it surely makes you lose your mind.
1. Chapter 1

_...Happy Summer, Bones fans! I hope the hiatus is treating you well - it at least it gives me time to work on this special summer project, finally released from the word processing documents of anthrodia's computer! Before you read, I just want to give you a little background knowledge: firstly, I'm going to be updating weekly, every saturday/sunday. Feel free to spam me with PMs if I forget to put something up, especially since I already have a few chapters in my reserves to get me started. Secondly, this will most definitely be rated M, now for language and later for the smut. You know you love it ;D Thirdly, the Eagles song is indeed an inspiration for this fanfic, so only by listening can you gain some insight into what's going down in the future. Lastly, this fic is completely AU, set in a world where Booth and Brennan don't exist as we know them, and instead, along with the entire team, are part of the Las Vegas undercover op. explored in 2x08, "The Woman in the Sand" - only this time, everything is real. I'll do my best to stay true to the characters and certain elements of the show we love, (like keeping certain parts of people's names in their new identities, etc) but it's fanfiction, so you can guarantee it's gonna be a little different. _

_All of that said and done, if you even read any of that, I hope you enjoy Life in the Fast Lane!_

* * *

"I fold."

A long draw at a cigar accompanied the gruff statement, and the rattle of chips signaled the end of another game. A group of men, hunched and visibly exhausted after a hard day's work, huddled around a table at Boomer's Coliseum Casino, easing the weight of the day with alcohol and poker. Currently, they were the casino's only patrons, as the nighttime rush had yet to begin. The bartender stood idle, purposelessly cleaning glasses with a greasy dishrag, and the dealer made no attempt at conversation as he reshuffled the deck. The atmosphere was filled with apprehension, and the youngest player was the first to dare make a comment as he gathered his hand.

Clearing his throat, he surveyed the cards. "So... what's got ya'll so social today?"

The man sitting across from him lifted a bushy eyebrow at his sarcasm. Only after raising the previous bet did he reply. "Needin' gossip, _Susie_?"

The first man colored slightly. "Jus' wonderin', is all."

"Lay off, Brent," reprimanded an older gentleman. He took a swig from his bottle before glaring at him reproachfully. "Charlie ain't the only one who's wondering. Hey, Scottie?"

The dealer, standing quietly aside, looked up. "Hmm?"

"You got some background on what's going on? Why's the place so empty?"

A few moments passed in silence, the occasional shuffle and swallow penetrating the thick, uneasy quiet that covered the casino. Smoke drifted aimlessly around the flickering neon lights of the ceiling, and the bartender resigned himself to waxing the bar with a new cloth. Then Scottie gave a last, shifty glance around before leaning down towards the table. "You all heard about the new owner, right?"

Charlie spoke up again. "That what's botherin' ya'll? We known for weeks 'e was comin."

"Yeah, but it ain't that he's coming that's go everyone worked up. It's who HE is, and that he's coming today," replied the dealer with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"So soon?" asked the small blind.

"He was more than a little eager to get started."

Brent chuckled darkly. "I heard 'e was pullin' at the bit to get to the races."

"Pretty rich boy is a colt. It's gonna take more than cash to play with the stallions," scoffed another.

"Good thing I'm a Scallion, then, eh?" a voice calmly remarked from behind the group. Those who had jeered beforehand stiffened as the unfamiliar, amused tone registered in their ears. Slowly, they made the awkward turn to face whoever it was that had spoken - and their suspicions were confirmed.

He didn't look like the pretty rich boy they'd mentioned earlier. His face, though handsome, was shaded with stubble, and the rugged chin and calculating brown eyes hinted at a darker, tougher nature. His stance oozed self-assurance, and the cocky way with which he extracted a poker chip from his pocket and flipped it in his palm caused a few of the customers to shift uncomfortably - this was the man they'd criticized so easily?

"See you boys have met Tony," announced Boomer, the previous owner of the Coliseum Casino, who was standing by the door. He massaged his thick neck as he strode over to the table and clapped a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm just showin' him the ropes tonight, but tomorrow the place is his."

A satisfied smirk lit up the new man's eyes as he surveyed the room. _Mine. _The word meant a lot to Tony, who'd started out as a farm hand in Utah. Slowly building his 'empire' around various floating bets, he'd struck luck during a game of Craps and come into the big time. From there he'd moved to Vegas and struggled in the world of the big guys with the small casinos he established in quiet towns. Coming across Boomer and his need to sell - fast - had been the greatest moment of his life. He'd cunningly made a few bets, ones he was certain to win even in the uncertain world of gambling, and at last he'd had enough to take the place off Boomer's hands. A contract, a signature, and bada-bing, bada-boom...

...it was his.

"'Ey, Tony, earth to Tony. Come in, Tony."

The man's dark eyes snapped back to Boomer's. "Sorry, Boom. Just lookin' around."

"You'll have plenty of time to do that later," he chuckled. "For now, I want you to meet the guys. These are the regulars, so get to knew 'em. Ya know..."

"...for business," Tony finished, a twisted smile accompanying the answer.

"That's m'boy," Boomer replied with a wink, before heading to the bartender with the excuse of checking up on some last minute details. Tony was left to turn back to the table, eyeing the motley crew of men that stared up at him expectantly. When he stared right back, they coughed and shifted again, obviously uncertain under such a direct gaze. The act gave him a small pleasure. His personality had a distinct edge that had given him a boost in the dog-eat-dog-world of Las Vegas. Even now, it seemed, it'd be a help running his own place. Nice guys didn't get too far in this town. _Make a note of that, Scallion._

He also made sure to take note of every face that was introduced to him, cataloguing their personalities even from what little information he gathered. Tony was a shrewd guy, and he knew it'd come in handy to know that, say, Charlie was the young but intelligent fellow who'd be easy to impress, and therefore, use; or that Brent looked like a burly alcoholic who'd probably give the place a bad rep if he was constantly starting drunk trouble. People were tools to be used, and in his climb to the top, he needed all the help he could get. But he put on that casual charm, the one he exuded without thought, and even with his arrogance he was cordial and chatted with them all. He could be friendly, and he would be, and that would be the way that place got started. With these guys, the regulars, behind him, he'd hit the ground running. And soon, this place would take off.

After a few minutes chatting, Boomer returned. "Well, it was nice seein' you boys, but it's time to show Tony around. We'll catch up some more later, yeah?" They agreed, a few raising their drinks in acknowledgement. Tony nodded and gave a brief smile in farewell, before turning to Boom, who jerked his head towards the bar. He followed with eager steps, those of a puppy behind his master. Tony had many acts, and the excited student was just one of the tricks up his sleeve. Brown nosing was something he hated, but he saw no problem with the occasional teacher's pet persona. Boomer saw right through that, and was vaguely amused by the whole thing, but he let him carry on - a man with wisdom far beyond his years, he was content to let the kid learn in his own way what would stand in Vegas. Still, he needed to show him how to run a business like the Coliseum, and that was the least he could do.

He rubbed his hands together, then gestured towards the bar. "This is where it's at. All the foodstuffs are back in the kitchen. But here, you got your wines, your pops, and your good hard liquors all stored up, for both your straight drinks and as the ingredients for all the crazy combos people ask for. I've got 'em organized with the ones people ask for most closest to Lance here - Lance being Lance Sweets, your bartender." Sweets, hearing his name, lifted his eyes from the bar he was rubbing down with some wax, eyebrows raised slightly as he, too, measured up the new boss. At last he smiled, and Tony gave a half-smile back to the kid as Boomer continued. "You can change all that up, o'course, but the system works just fine, right, Sweets?"

Again Sweets found himself in their conversation, and he nodded. "Yup. Totally." There was a stony silence where the bartender simply stared for a few moments before returning to the task at hand. Boom and Tony exchanged a glance before heading for a new part of the casino.

"Not much for talking, is he?" Tony whispered as they turned to make their way to his new office.

Boom snorted. "He's just assessing you. He's got this thing about just...watching, at first. Kinda unnerving, but he's a good worker, and eventually he warms up to just about everyone. Then you can't get him to shut up."

They chuckled all the way to the back room, where Boomer then introduced him to the worse parts of working a casino. "Finance can be a real pain in the ass, so stick to your guns, boy," he advised as he went over spreadsheets and charts of advances and spendings of the past year. "These are a loose guide, but I didn't give you the job for nothing - I think you got sense, so use it in your investments." They spent a long while analyzing and making plans for the future, Boom coaxing his replacement through the process until he could stand on his own. By that time, Tony was confident in the business, and with that little push in the right direction he was ready to begin. And it was a good thing, too, because the hands on his Rolex - won in a game of pool about a year ago, and probably the bet he was most proud of - were fast approaching nine, and that was when the real nighttime rush began. He thought he was ready, but this would be the real test.

Boom caught the glances he kept making to the watch and straightened, eyes closing tightly as he stretched his back. "Shit, that is way too long to be standing over a desk. Luckily, you don't have to do too much of that here."

"I think I'll get the general idea of what this is really all about tonight."

"Yessir. Night is when we casino owners rule. We've got everything everybody wants - booze, gambling, and women."

"Women? I ain't seen any 'round here yet," Tony laughed, fingers sliding over the poker chip in his pocket in anticipation.

"Well, then, son, tonight's gonna be your first taste of a lot of things. Let's get out there and get started. You need to meet the staff and such, but I think they all know you're coming. Your reputation proceeds you," he said, feigning a haughty air and bowing mockingly.

Scallion huffed, shaking his head with a wry grin. "That tends to happen."

Boom laughed, and for the first time Tony understood the nickname. "Cocky bastard. We'll see if you keep that up after your first night at Boomer's Coliseum Casino."

"Won't be Boomer's for long," he said cheekily, and the older man rolled his eyes.

As Boomer began walking out ahead of him, Tony took a deep breath and relaxed his broad shoulders, rolling them to smooth away the tension that had built there over the last hour. It was a good tension, the kind the player has before he knows he's going to shoot the winning basket, or catch the winning touchdown - but he couldn't be distracted by that tonight. Tonight, he'd really have his victory. And for that, he had to focus. He took a deep breath, and then entered back into the main room.

In the mere space of an hour, the sprawling floor had been transformed: the beginnings of the crowd had started to arrive, taking their seats at gaming tables or atop the plush cushions in the lounges, a few grabbing seats at the bars or the dinner spaces. People of all types spread throughout the room to claim their territories for the night, practically vibrating with readiness for the fun to be had as they joked and laughed with friends and acquaintances alike. The dance floor was currently empty, but the stage was occupied by the professionals in their glittering costumes, their slender legs being stretched in warm up from beneath the garments and their faces practicing the pouty, sultry expressions they wore so well from behind veils of cosmetics. Men, only on their first round, had already begun to hoot and whistle from the seats nearest the stage, while the more dignified of customers looked on with vague interest. Above it all, the machines of the ceiling diffused a wafting smoke to give off a mysterious air, and the neon lights shining from above cast hazy shades through it all. Over the clinks of the ringing slots, music was thrumming through the speakers, tonight's track a jazzy rock mix. Altogether the atmosphere was one of murmuring expectation, and the real show was set to begin.

"Lookin' good, Vinny," Boomer called to the DJ, who'd also been in charge of coordinating the evening. He raised a hand, a Boom grabbed Tony around the shoulders and grumbled, "He's a vain little snob from 'across the pond,' as they say, but he runs the music and lights like no other." Tony nodded, another fact added to his endless supply of info on new employees. Tidbits on others were also compiled as they made a complete circle around the bar (which was the center of the floor) - he came to know the various servers and dealers - who he was sure all gossiped about him the minute he turned his back - and each of the performers, who he was sure did the very same thing. Maybe Boom was really telling the truth back there... if he was, he had a lot to live up to.

It was exactly nine, the start of the worst rush this part of Vegas, by the time they stopped, and already the Coliseum was bursting at the seams. The pounding bass of another track mixed with the chatter of hundreds of people, and Boomer, even with his special trait, had to raise his voice to be heard. "Well, I guess it's time to get this party started," he said with a mischievous grin and a smoothing of the sparse hair on his head. "Now that you've met everybody…" He paused, then slowly began again, quietly this time, "Oh, wait, no, there's one last someone you have to meet."

"Oh?" Tony asked quizzically.

"Mmm, not _have_ to, but I think you'll _want_ to," he mused slyly.

Realization dawned. "Ahh," he said, nodding his head slowly. "And just who is this 'someone'?"

"She's always fashionably late - likes the attention, ya know? - but she's the best damned performer we got; leads our little pack. You know the type - pretty, intelligent, the works, but she's got something else... She's a bitch of a firecracker, but with that one, getting burned is worth it." His tone was tinged by admiration, and with Boomer, that was no small thing. Tony wondered just who this evasive siren could be, and his eyes surveyed the room quickly, but landed on nothing unbelievingly striking.

He raised a skeptical brow. "You sure you're not exaggerating, Boom?"

The older man shook his head vehemently. "Naw, kid, you know I don't do that - hey, look, there she is now," he interrupted himself, lifting a finger towards the door where Tony had been gazing only seconds before. Immediately his head rotated back, and he craned above the crowd to get a good look.

And there she was.

The red lights of the door where she hovered cast a dangerous glare across her shadowed features, and set alight the fiery blaze of curled auburn hair that cascaded across her shoulders in tantalizing sensual suggestion. A red dress, even darker crimson than the hue she basked in, was molded to the exact flare of her hips before it veered into a bubbled layer that caught the light with its taffeta glow. His mouth grew dry as he watched her step forwards, emerging from the crowd with all the power of a predator, her movements smooth and filled with graceful calculation. Legs encased in fishnet stockings strode lithely towards the stage, flaming heels the exact same shade as her dress precise as they picked their way through the crowd with ease. Soon she was standing with the dancers, who all immediately parted to allow her into their midst - the queen had arrived.

He heard himself asking Boomer a question, though his world had suddenly gone fuzzy, a strange sense that he'd just stumbled across something that would...make him different...someone...who would...

_"What's her name?"_

_"Roxie. Roxie Brennan."_

Almost as if she'd heard her name, the woman turned from the giggling and whispering gossips around her, and he found himself immersed in eyes of a crystal so pure it defied every single notion the sinful dress would have him form. Plunged into their electrifying depths, his breath caught, again full of the feeling that somehow this moment was _important. _Tony Joseph Scallion was pierced straight to his soul by a magnetic draw that shattered the haze she'd put him in in the first place, and he was forever changed.

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_Chapter Two will be up next week! Your reviews are like Nutella - awesome.  
A question to get you started: any ideas for the new name of the Casino? As Tony said himself, it's not going to be Boomer's for much longer...  
Oh, and if any of you don't understand some of the gambling terms used in this fic, don't be afraid to ask! :]_


	2. Chapter 2

_Second chapter is here! :D Haven't had time to edit as much as I'd like, but I'm going on vacation for the next week and I thought it'd be better to get it up unbeta'd than put up nothing at all. This means you get this a day earlier, but the next chapter will be one day later. Sorry for the inconvenience! I'll be sure to write a TON at the beach, though, so hopefully when I get back we'll have a flurry of posting activity for you. Also, the chapter breaks are not behaving like I'd like them to, so I hope that this isn't too confusing to follow. Without further ado, here's chapter two!_

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Roxie had always been the real woman in charge.

Her parents left at an early age. Drug dealers and crooks, they'd given up on their children when words like "forever" and "love" began to seem like too much work, and headed off to who-knows-where. She'd been left, alone, abandoned, fending for herself in the dog-eat-dog world of Las Vegas. It was no place for children, so she'd grown up fast - three months after the disappearance of her family, she was working on the Strip as a dancer, finding jobs wherever she could, whenever she could.

She was fifteen.

It was hard, because though the talent was there, the teacher wasn't. Instinctually she learned to sense what felt right, becoming more and more at ease with her own body. Unfortunately, in Vegas, everybody else seemed to as well, and it was difficult to keep men at an arms length when she was young and available and everything the city wanted in an innocent girl. They were ready, with their greedy hands, to snatch her up as if she were nothing more than another victim within the powerful jaws of fame and sex.

But she was smarter than that, and she learned tricks to survival, because that was what she was doing in the beginning - surviving. As time went on, however, survival became easy, and adaptation turned into second nature. She began to increase in her steady rise to the top - two years after she'd begun, she was holding a solid performance job at a downtown club. Another year after that, a man commonly known as Boomer visited the place, and upon seeing her talent, immediately hired her with the promise of higher pay and board - if she'd work for him and him alone, at a newly established casino that was full of potential, much like herself.

It was an offer she couldn't, after so many years of wandering, refuse.

She'd started at the Coliseum as an amateur, but by the time she was twenty-six she'd become their star. Opening act, performing director, and general queen of entertainment, she'd succeeded in making a name for herself, as an actress, singer, and especially dancer. Her contract was bound to the casino, but it was a place in which she felt comfortable and, quite frankly, on top of the world. Here, she had control. It was her domain. It was where she belonged.

So when Boomer announced his retirement, and also offered her own, she immediately balked at the thought - when she had so much power here, why would she ever choose to give it up? The idea was ludicrous. Certainly, they'd made a deal, and it expired when he chose to leave - but couldn't that deal be extended?

"I'm the best performer you've got - you know the reason your business took off was because of me," she explained heatedly to the older man as she paced back and forth in his office in agitation, the clicking of her heels on the wooden floor beating a sharp, staccato beat.

He narrowed his eyes at her from where he sat behind his desk, leaning forwards across the polished surface. "Hey, I was good before you came along - we have the best booze and craps in town."

She stopped and simply raised her eyebrows, and he rolled his eyes. "Well, alright, the gentlemen certainly enjoy your presence here, Roxie."

"I would hope so. I've always put 100% into this job. Whatever it took, I gave it. And now you're telling me I have to go back to where I was before?" The woman huffed in indignation, plopping sulkily into the seat before him.

"Ah ah," he reminded, shaking a finger. "All you have to do is talk to the new owner, and he'll probably talk right back to you about extending your contract."

She crossed her arms, shaking her auburn mane. "Yeah, yeah. But I've been told I usually don't make the best first impressions. Even though I'm exceptionally beautiful and intelligent." She reminded him, and he bit his lip to keep from laughing, choosing to go on instead and soothe her doubts. When it came to the possibility that her job, the thing she valued most in life, might be endangered, all that self-confidence seemed to go straight down the drain.

"C'mon, Rox," he prodded gently, "What's the best way to impress a man?"

Her lips tilted into a sly smirk. "That's playing dirty."

"Then give it to him dirty. He'll probably like it."

They chuckled for a while, but at last she sighed, and cast anxious eyes to him. "I need this job, Boomer. You've always been...kind to me. I don't want to lose that if he doesn't...like me." Her brief moments of insecurity were harsh, revealing, and she searched her purse pockets for a cigarette to keep herself together.

Boomer looked at the woman who'd grown to be like a daughter to him. For a long time his sad eyes simply gazed upon her as she lit up, inhaled, and then exhaled shakily. At last, he said, with reassurance in his voice, "I know. I know."

She'd left his office with promises that he would talk to the new owner, and as he shut the door behind her, he shook his head tiredly. "What man hasn't ever liked you?" he muttered to himself, a fond grin upon his face, before setting to the last of the casino's paperwork and a cold glass of Guinness.

/

"Oh my God," Angel laughed as she and Roxie sat sipping wine at a local cafe. Her eyes wide, she gazed at her friend in disbelief. "He did _what?" _

"You heard me," Roxie eluded, nevertheless allowing a feral grin to slip across her features. "It was very, very good." She traced a finger contemplatively around the lip of her glass.

Angel raised a sharp, dark eyebrow. "But?" she drawled. At her friend's innocent shrug, she crossed her arms. "Oh, don't give me that. Obviously, something's up. Prince Charming not working out?"

"No. Well, I'm just...bored. He's not inventive, or exciting."

"But what about...?"

"He learned it from a book, Ange. And that's not what I - "

"He reads?" The woman sounded scandalized, and Roxie rolled her eyes.

"Being culturally educated is _not_ a bad thing."

"Well, if he's got business smarts and a little knowledge on the nasty, if you know what I mean, then I'm satisfied. But if he learned it from a book, maybe you're right..."

A frustrated sigh escaped the blue-eyed woman's lips. "That's not the problem...I don't know. I guess he just...doesn't do it for me anymore. It's time to move on."

"Sweetie, have any of your relationships lasted longer than, say, three weeks?"

Her eyes flew open in a hard stare, the lack of an answer telling all.

"You sure you just don't wait it out long enough?" she continued, simultaneously signaling their waiter for a second glass.

Roxie watched the amber liquid fall into her friend's cup, then again shook her head, curls bouncing against her shoulders. "No. I just know what I want, and when someone is no longer what I want, I move on. It is quite simple, actually."

"Yeah, simple, for now. But sometimes the challenge is worth it, you know?"

She snorted. "I have enough challenges to deal with right now." Her slender fingertips, nails painted a bold red, reached up to massage her temples.

Angel rolled her eyes. "Are you still obsessing over work? C'mon, Bren. You're best dancer the Coliseum's got. If the new owner has any brains, he won't throw that away."

"I know, and I'm extremely good at what I do. But I have my doubts."

The dark eyes of the woman across from her were piercing, but filled with an unexpected warmth. "I don't think it's your job that has you worried."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked quickly, leaning back in her chair.

An eyebrow arched across her pale face. "Sweetie," she began after a pause, "after your parents left..."

"I don't want to talk about this, Ange," Roxie started, rising from her seat and digging through her purse for cash.

"But you need to hear it." The resolution in her voice was enough to make Roxie look upwards and pause her movements, lips held tightly together as she waited impatiently. "After your parents left, everything has been about acceptance. Finding a new family to replace your old one. But if you think you can find a family in work, then you're wrong. Family is with people, with relationships, and you can't have that if you keep running away every time you get close to someone."

Roxie's eyes flitted downwards, but her jaw was set as they flew up once again. "Your evidence is based purely on opinion. I'll see you at work tonight, Angel."

The seated woman stared in concern after the retreating form of her friend and sighed. Finishing off her drink, she stood and cast down her payment on the table's glassy surface. With a stretch and a sigh, Angel turned and left all talk of loneliness far behind, the scent of her perfume fading into the evening air to mix with the forlorn revelations of their discussion.

/

Roxie pursed her lips at her reflection in the mirror. Turning her head slowly from side to side, she searched for stray hairs, a gap in her foundation, or anything that might make her less than perfect. But she was as immaculate as ever, possibly more so - tonight, Boom had promised the new owner would be shadowing him, learning from the master before he took over forever after that, and she had to look good - dress to impress, and all that...

"Stunning."

She whirled around, her pose instantly defensive, only to see Pete leaning against the doorframe, beer in hand. Recovering from her shock, she straightened, and cast him a half-hearted smile. "Well, aren't I always?"

"Of course, baby. Now why don't you ever dress up like that for me? Too much work?" he asked with a playfully raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, and you're not worth it," she taunted, turning back to her reflection for one last look before her hand hit the lights and she turned to him, shaking her head. "I'm working tonight, Pete. No time for anything right now. But you're welcome to stay here until I return." She brushed past him, searching for her purse amongst the plush cushions of the apartment's main room. She spotted it on the kitchen table, and moved to get it, before he took hold of her wrists and pulled her back to him, the acrid scent of alcohol on his breath harsh on her senses.

"Aw, really Rox?" he whispered, and the stray hairs on her forehead fluttered in distress as he exhaled slowly. "Not even a quickie? You like it up against the wall, don't you, baby?" He attempted to place his mouth against the hollow of her neck, but she wrenched herself away, irritation beginning to flare in her eyes.

"I already told you, Pete. Tonight is very important to my career. I would not like to miss it. I'll see you tonight."

Pete huffed in annoyance, falling upon the couch and taking another swig. "Well, hurry back."

"I'll do my best," Roxie muttered, rolling her eyes as she strode for the door and locked it softly behind her. Continuing down the stairs from her apartment, and entering into the cool night air, she attempted to forget the conversation they'd just had, but it was lodged firmly in her mind. Pete was simply becoming too clingy. They'd entered into a sexual relationship two weeks ago, but he was not as exciting in bed as she'd thought he would be when their first crossed paths at the casino. What she'd told Angel earlier was true - he was boring. And he was constantly pressuring her into sex. It wouldn't be so bad if it was good sex, but obviously...

She spent the rest of the walk wondering how to break it off with him, and only the minute twinge she felt in her chest exposed the truth of how she felt about yet another failed relationship. But Roxie was strong, and she didn't feel things like that; it was weak - so she shook it off and continued bravely towards the Coliseum, at last forcing thoughts of the apartment conversation out of her mind as her focus was diverted fully to the night ahead.

She'd practically been rehearsing the way she would impress the owner. Knowing almost nothing about him, she had a variety of tactics, but with both young and old, seduction was her best defense. Men were weak, and could bend easily to the will of a beautiful woman. And Roxie was, well, beautiful. No shame in hiding that. No shame at all. In fact, it would probably make it easier. She'd never had to resort to such tactics with Boomer, but then, Boom was a surprisingly kind face in a world that was completely opposite. It was a wonder he'd had such success in Vegas at all, with all the ugly, brutish faces looking to squash anyone who didn't fit the mold. She was thankful he had, though - without him, she didn't know where she'd be. He'd been...a father...

Who was she kidding? He was an employer, and who was she to get attached to him? To her dismay, her eyes began to fill, and she looked upwards, taking deep, calming breaths. Tonight obviously had her more uncertain and nervous than she'd originally thought - her job really was...all she had. Her emotions were the evidence of the strain, and they were getting far too out of control. First Pete, then Boomer...

_C'mon, Rox, what are ya doing? You're not insecure, so stop acting like it. Be Roxie Brennan._

She'd just be thankful when tonight was over and resolved.

Roxie was one step closer to that goal when she found herself before the Coliseum, already pulsing with lights and music from the inside, a muffled bass that traveled through the ground and thrilled up her spine. It almost had a relaxing effect, as the music set an instinctual sway to her hips and a rhythm to the paces she took towards the door. In her domain, the place in which she held power, her anxieties slowly but surely melted away. Gradually, her confidence returned, and with a final breath she adopted the persona that she wore so well after so much practice. An easy smile, alluring and knowledgeable, slid onto her lips and accompanied her first step into the casino, and into the night that could make or break her.

Unbeknownst to her, it would do far more.

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_I hope you enjoyed! Thanks to all of you who left me your lovely reviews - I treasure each and every one as precious feedback, and I'll always try to reply. Please don't hesitate to tell me how you felt about this chapter :] See you in a week!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey, everyone! Lucky for you and me, I found a Starbucks with WiFi, so I'm able to post this from the beach! :D Vacation gave me a lot of time to write, so hopefully I'll have some iBones chapters, a oneshot, and, of course, this story, to update for you in the next week. 'Hopefully' being the operative word, hehehe. For now, enjoy this chapter [gasp! an early Friday post!] and let me know what you think!_

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He shook his head, jarred into reality with the suddenness that a drowning person surfaces for water. As he did, still gasping for breath, he noted the amused grin on her perfectly painted lips, and the way her stance was tilted just so, measuring him up. _He_ knew _she_ probably knew what effect she had on him. But he'd let her have her fun, and he'd have his own. Tony let a cocky grin slide across his face, one that felt largely at home there, and his chin jutted forwards in almost an exact copy of her own expression.

_Two can play this game._Then he clearly let his eyes travel her body, this time making a deliberate show of exploring her each and every contour. His gaze was as invading as if his hands were directly on her, smoothing along every detail of her covered legs, outlining the hourglass waistline to the cleavage that hung tantalizingly over her dress before sliding upwards into the pale, seamless skin of her bare shoulders. He traced a path up the straight line of her neck before seeing the rosy, half-parted lips, the nose with nostrils slightly flared, and then once again her brilliant blue eyes.

_Was it his imagination, or were they - darker, than before?_

Completing his examination, he dug into his pocket, flipping the chip he extracted before catching it smoothly. He nodded, radiating approval. The motion caused her to shift her weight backwards, going so far as to sit down, arms crossing over her chest and eyes narrowing, but a wry grin still on her face. He would have liked to take a guess at the thoughts going through her mind, but Boom quickly took his arm and dragged him to the bar. "Hey, glad you guys are trying to burn the place down from across the room, but I need you to sit here so we can get the routine working. Just observe tonight." Boom raised an eyebrow to make sure he understood the message, then turned and shuffled out into the crowd.

"In other words, stay out of my way," Tony chuckled, settling into a barstool in between a young blonde and Charlie. He nodded politely to them both before signaling Sweets for a drink. The bartender raised an eyebrow, and Tony shouted across to him, "Red Death on the rocks, kid." Not waiting for a response, he spun around and caught himself with his hands behind him on the bar, shoulders and arms flexed as he scanned the room. He found Boomer talking to..._what was it? Roxie? Yeah, that was it. Roxie... _Her arms were held tightly against her, but Boom gently took them and clasped her hands in front of her, and his larger ones surrounded hers as he spoke. She began nodding slowly, eyes unblinking, but that curious smile still twitching at the corners of her lips, and he wondered what they could possibly be talking about. In a short time, though, Boom was releasing her, tapping her nose affectionately as he walked away, and she was rolling her eyes and making her way towards the stage, the other dancers trailing behind her in a large, giggling gaggle.

He continued to watch until they disappeared behind the curtain, then turned his attention to Boom, who had just squeezed in between him and the blonde, standing close and clapping Tony on the back. "She wants to talk to you, after the show."

"Can't wait," he murmured, staring back to the stage just as the lights began to dim and Vinny's voice came over the mic.

"Hey, ladies and gents. We're about to get started, so just pop a squat somewhere and we'll get the evening started with your in casino entertainment."

"'Pop a squat'?" Tony asked with a snort, and Boom chuckled and shook his head. He opened his mouth to reply, but the hissing glide of the curtains opening sent a hush through the crowd, and the new owner turned his attention at last to the stage.

Spots illuminated the lithe forms of eight dancers, their poses unflinching even under the direct heat of the lights. Costumed in brilliant red, their figures were stark against the surrounding darkness. But the person who emerged from their midst made them all seem pale in comparison, and he knew instantaneously, even as she was still in shadow, that it was her. When she at last stepped front and center-stage, into the light that was destined for her, he found himself captivated by the way she held herself, and the majesty and confidence she exuded.

He also passively wondered if, in that moment, he owned the place...or she did.

As if thinking similar thoughts, her eyes caught his gaze, and from yards away, he watched an already familiar smirk tilt her lips as she gave a taunting bow. A wink, almost imperceptible from across the room, was directed to him when she drew up her posture once again, and the temperature in the room rose a few degrees.

_More like a few hundred..._

He coughed and absent mindedly pulled at the edge of his crisp white collar, shaking his head in slight consternation. He'd never had another woman effect him so easily - not to mention one who he hadn't even said a fucking word to. But here she was, this unknown goddess, turning him on with a wink from yards away...

"Mr. Scallion?" he heard behind him. Dazed, he wondered how long he'd been gaping at their - more honestly, her - figures whirling around onstage, and turned to see his drink being extended from the hands of the bartender. His drink was cool against his fingers when he took it and turned back to the stage, the dim lighting bouncing off the glass and drawing his attention to it. The beverage was a bright, shimmering mixture of crimson and maroon and any other imaginable shade of red, a green sprig of mint curling around the edge of the glass in sharp contrast. One of his favorite drinks, if a little fruitier than he normally enjoyed, but with a sharp undertone of vodka that made for a good shooter or just a glass for himself.

_Red Death. _It seemed, he thought pensively as he extended his glass towards the woman on stage, who was soaking up the cheers and applause meant all for her at the end of their first number, that his favorite form of death was red: because, God, if she didn't kill him, then he didn't know what could.

Through his glass, the material of her scarlet dress and the blazing colors of his drink melded together, all soft reds with dark intentions.

/

After she had taken that first step into the casino, it was like being part of another world, where daytime flourished even in the middle of the night. People around her were laughing and talking, almost shouting to be heard over one another, and some had hands that were gesturing animatedly while others had blank and unreadable expressions as they crouched over their drinks. Faces were cast in shadow as people mingled near the bar or took their bets on the craps and poker games set up around the room, and some were casual while others had come in straight from work, and others still had taken time to dress up for the evening. When she came into this job, there were a few regulars, but often the casino was full of unknown faces she wouldn't recognize on the street; nothing but a blur in her memories after the night was over.

There was one face she was searching for, though, and with every person she shouldered past in the crowded area near the door, she wondered if it was him. She had no idea what he even looked like, but with every pair of eyes Roxie met she couldn't help but wonder, _is it him? Is he the new guy? _Her undying curiosity continued to push her through the crowd, stomach clenching in expectation.

Abandoning her search as she finally stepped into the circle her colleagues (if you could really call them that) had made, she let a more radiant smile cross her face. "So, girls," she questioned in her smooth voice, "ya'll ready for a good show tonight?"

"Are we ever!" screeched the new girl, and Roxie racked her brain trying to remember if it was Petunia or Lily or...

"Daisy, not so loud!" chided Camille, senior among the dancers. Her dark features wore an aggrieved look, and she lifted nails painted black to pinch the bridge of her nose as she tried to stay tolerant. "You have _got_ to stop doing that."

The young girl whimpered with the effort of keeping herself in control. "I'm sorry, I'm just really excited! It's my first performance night, you know, and I just really, really want to do a good job. Plus, you know, the new guy is here, and _boy_, is he - "

"New guy?" Roxie cut in sharply, suddenly more attuned to the conversation. "You mean the new owner?"

Realizing that _the Roxanne Brennan _was speaking to _her_, Daisy straightened and nodded seriously. "Over there with Mr. Boomer, uh... ma'am." _Your Highness _didn't seem exactly like the appropriate thing to say, and luckily she caught herself in time. But Roxie wasn't paying attention to her novice's fumbling, and instead was perusing the room with a critical eye. She stopped short, a lungful of air sucked in harshly.

It wasn't as if he was so exceptionally stunning that his very appearance knocked the breath right out of her - although if she were being honest he was actually very, very good on the eyes - but she hadn't been expecting someone looking like…him, to run the casino. Usually, they were older, huskier men like Boomer. But when she turned to search him out, she almost immediately found herself immersed in eyes the color of molten chocolate, at once burning with dark intensity and filled with a reassuring warmth. He could have a face mangled with scars and a nose that was too big and no ears at all, but if he had those eyes, he would be the most beautiful man alive.

He didn't, however, have scars or a big nose or a lack of ears. To the contrary, she thought as she observed him, he was indeed very attractive - his stance was one borne out of arrogance and self-confidence, and his entire air seemed to say _I know what I'm doing. _She herself was busy imagining what he could be doing with those strong shoulders, and the rough stubble that slanted across his face in a dark 5 o'clock shadow, and those thick, calloused hands that would be so perfect for…

Guiltily jarred out of her thoughts and quickly realizing that she must look like a fool staring like that, and just a bit shaken that she'd been effected so strongly, she straightened - only to realize that he was staring right back. She would have been mortified that he'd noticed her in such a vulnerable state, but she suspected by the slack jaw he sported, that her presence had a similar, dazing effect.

_Perfect._

Exhaling in a sigh of relief that her act hadn't been destroyed before it began, she retreated into her most comfortable ploy, adopting a secret smile and standing just to let him know that once he rose to awareness, he was in trouble. To her dismay, when he realized he'd been caught red-handed, he didn't let it phase him - instead, she watched as a wolfish grin frighteningly similar to her own slid onto his lips, and he copied her exact stance. Her head tilted in warning, but he continued to surprise her by easily bypassing every trick she had up her sleeves. Not your typical Hollywood man, although his next motion was so blatantly male that she would have shivered - had it not made her so aroused. Carefully, he was scouring over her body as if he'd never see it again, his eyes trailing over her with such concentration that she felt bare under his gaze.

She sat down and crossed her legs tightly, suddenly very disgruntled by the fact that he was getting her hot when there were only moments till call time.

Deceptively, however, she feigned haughtiness, crossing her arms and shaking her head almost imperceptibly as he seemed to find her in his favor. She wanted to snort at such typical alpha male behavior. Like she needed his approval. All the same, she couldn't help matching his infectious, cocky grin. It would be fun to kiss the damn thing right off his face, she mused, before being literally wrenched back into the group's conversation by Angel's biting nails on her arm.

"Whoa, sweetie," she hissed, peering down at her from under layers of silver eye shadow. "What was that?"

The strange encounter had left her a little breathless, and Roxie could only slowly shake her curly locks and answer with a private smile, "I'm not really sure, Ange. Not really sure at all."

The others looked on in interest, wondering, like Angel, what the hell had just gone down. They looked to the approaching Boomer for information, but he had eyes only for Roxie.

"Hey, kid," he murmured, standing her up and taking her slightly aside. Her eyes were dancing with excitement; if uncertainty still lurked within their indigo depths, it was hidden well. "You okay? You looked a little heady there. Need some water?" His voice was slightly amused, and she chided him with a roll of her eyes."I'm fine, Boomer. Nothing happened, I was just… caught by surprise."

"You're telling me," he guffawed, and at a second reproachful stare, he took her hands into his own and patted them gently. "Hey, hey, I'm just teasing. He didn't notice anything, so you're good. Now you gotta go out and knock his socks off, alright?"

"I've got a plan," she assured him. As he turned to leave after giving her a playful tap on the nose, she stood, undecided, before reaching out. "And Boomer? There was nothing to notice." Quickly, she turned on her heel and fled backstage, her posse of performers trailing behind her.

In the midst of her hasty escape, Boomer called back to her in his characteristic voice, "I don't think so!" She whipped around in indignation, but he was already making his way through the crowd, and she could only purse her lips and continue in the same way. _Boomer can believe what he wants_, was the haughty thought that crossed her mind as she gathered backstage with her fellow performers. If she was being entirely honest, she'd admit that her response to him had been a little…extreme. But that was it, and nothing more.

Assured on that note, she turned to her expectant followers. "Tonight is a big performance, girls. We need to positively blow their minds out there. Angel, remember to let your back bend smoothly in the turns. Daisy, the same goes for you, and your high kicks were looking a little ragged in practice. The foot should be arched more, like this. Oh, and Becks, do you have better shoes this time? Ah, good. Let me know if those toes of yours are still pinching." She lent a last, critical eye to the women before nodding her approval and rotating to face the curtain. In silence, they waited expectantly for Vinny to announce their number. When his voice at last came over the speakers, the dancers all took their places behind the curtain, alert and ready to move the moment their leader gave the signal.

Like a conductor, she needed but to lift a finger and they were off, gliding across the stage like silent phantoms; pretty ghosts condemned to a life of entertainment. If this was hell, though, she couldn't imagine a heaven any better than this. As they drifted into their marks, striking poses for the opening, the spotlights flashed on. Even from where Roxie stood behind the curtain, ready for her grand entrance, they were blinding, causing the dancers to rely on what they knew of the stage without sight, and to trust each other and the purest of their instincts - the ability to dance.

A shiver of anticipation accompanied the excited flutter in her abdomen. This was the moment they all lived for. Despite everything in Vegas that shoved them into the limelight, and tossed them from one greedy vendor to another, the reason they were here was for this moment, where all eyes were unable to tear themselves away from people doing what they loved most, and all the terrible things of the past vanished from the mind - at least for a while.

Her hand on the curtain, she took a deep breath and flung it away, and the actress in her burst forth as she became the star.

The lights were dazzling, and the eight figures who were simply standing on stage waiting for the music to play were already sweating beneath them. The air shimmered with the heat they radiated, and glittered with the vibrancy cast off the sparkling dresses. But Roxie stood, unaffected, and prowled down the walkway in feline elegance, her eyes defiantly cast upwards while all the others shielded themselves from the brilliance. She owned the stage, and the hearts of every person in that room, from the moment she stepped into the light. The knowledge was one she would never forget, for even though her past was ugly, and unthinkable for most of the people here, this place was one where the future was as bright as the spots.

And still she shone brighter.

In the silence of expectation, her heels click, click, clicking down the center aisle of the stage were punctuated notes, each beat heightening the suspense further than the last. At last, when the silence was brimming with tension, they came to a steady halt at the will of their mistress. A hand fell to her hip as she surveyed the audience from her place at the very pinnacle of the stage.

She caught the eyes of the owner and found herself suddenly at the very pinnacle of her career as well, a place where she could fall, or take flight.

"Time to fly," she murmured, and with an elaborate, teasing bow to the owner, she listened as the opening tones began, low and full of dark promises. With a final wink in his direction, guaranteed to make any man weak at the knees, she resumed her pose, arms extended gracefully above her, foot pointed, arched perfectly, to the side.

_One, two, three._

The stage exploded in a flurry of motion.

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_Don't hesitate to leave reviews! I won't know what you want if you don't tell me, and who knows where this story would go without that? xD Also, before I forget: some authors are having a problem with mentions of spoilers in their reviews. Although I personally am a spoiler-whore, some people who might read this fic aren't, so PLEASE, if you do review, don't put spoilers in your review! Feel free to PM me or talk with me on tumblr if you do want to discuss season six! That said and done, I hope you enjoyed - see you next week!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Time for the next chapter! You might be wondering why I'm updating earlier than the normal week, as I usually do, so here's your answer in a nutshell - I'm leaving for a forensics program next Monday, and I won't be back for ten days. Obviously, that means you'd miss a week of updates. So, what I'm hoping to do is get another update (chapter five) on Sunday night/Monday morning, as sort of a peace-offering/tide-you-over deal since I won't have access to a computer to post another chapter or even type a new one out. That way, when I get back, we'll be right on track to hurry and type up/post chapter six as soon as possible. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience; so thank you for your understanding! For now, enjoy chapter four! _

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_Success._

That was her first thought as the fog that her concentration had brought began to fade, and the applause registered in her hearing. Her chest was heaving with effort, and her legs shook and trembled, threatening to collapse in the heels definitely not made for walking - let alone dancing. But it was all worth it as she gazed out over the sea of people and found each one focused in admiration upon her shining face. Envy, astonishment, pleasure… each expression reflected her achievement back to her, and she flushed with pride. This was her moment. This was what she lived for.

Backstage again, she congratulated her group for a job well done before dismissing them with a wave of her hand. Brief though the praise was, they knew a compliment from Roxie meant more than the congratulations of all the people in the audience combined. Giddy from the show high, they practically skipped out to mingle in the crowd. Roxie herself remained behind for a few moments, a small smile on her face. Though not outwardly showing it, she was very pleased with the way tonight had gone: only Daisy had made a mistake - left kick then turn, not turn then left kick - but even she had corrected within moments, and from then on things had gone more smoothly than she would have hoped. It definitely made for a fantastic first impression, and if Boomer held up on his end of the deal and did a little talking with the newbie, then she could almost guarantee herself a place under the owner's hand.

She was shaken out of her reverie when her throbbing ankles began to demand her attention. Her lips tightened in a hard line, and she gingerly reached down and removed the ruby red shoe, struggling not to cry out as it pulled free. An ugly sore stared out at her from the place where her stockings had disagreed with the lip of the shoe. She'd bet an identical mark graced the opposite foot, and sank into a chair to rub the ache away. There was always a struggle, in her business, to stay fashionable without sacrificing her comfort. Often, the latest trends won out, but it was becoming tiresome. Her ankles were increasingly troubled, and though she wouldn't admit it, she was terrified of injury. Their shoes were not conducive to their art, but what could a girl do? She needed a job, and if she broke anything, even her pinky toe, she'd risk getting kicked out. Unless you sold yourself, this was the quickest way to make a buck in Vegas.

_Better not chance it, _her conscience admonished. Maybe she could ease up in the practices, and spend more time soaking her feet. That decided, she stood and gently pulled her shoes back on, the contact making her wince. She just had to endure it a little more, though. Besides, she had something else to focus on now - it was time to meet the owner.

The thought was exciting, and a rush of adrenaline coursed along her spine.

_Time to play, Rox, _she told herself devilishly, making her way along the path her fellow performers had taken moments before. _Let's see if you're any good at the seduction game._

Her eyes wandered over the crowds, pausing over the pool tables as the balls clacked against one another, the slots as a woman cheered over her winnings, the dance floor as couples shifted to the beat of the fast dance tunes Vincent was so fond of, and at last the bar, where Boomer was standing next to the new owner. They were staring her down already, but she refused to let it phase her. Declining to meet the dark eyes of the unknown man, she instead focused on Boomer, beaming at him as she practically skipped over to his side.

Their eyes met, and he willingly played along. "There's my girl!" he crowed, taking her hands and kissing them before releasing her. "Fantastic show tonight, darling; you really outdid yourself this time. What a show, eh?"

"What a show," came the smooth, agreeing echo of the owner, who slid off his barstool and into their space, where they turned to invite him into their circle. Her senses were suddenly assaulted by the heady scent of spices, and something else musky and obscure. She felt goosebumps beginning to rise along her arms in response, and squashed down the urge to shiver. Instead, Roxie appraised him almost as brazenly as he had earlier, eyebrow arching mischievously.

"Boomer," she chided gently, still running her gaze over his figure, "you haven't introduced me to your friend yet."

Tony had the feeling she knew exactly who he was, but let her have her fun. Plus, he wasn't going to say anything as long as she kept looking at him like _that_.

"This is the new owner, Tony Scallion. Tony, meet Roxie, Roxie Brennan - you saw her on stage. She's the lovely woman who puts on that whole shindig."

"Mmm, pretty and talented," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, a cheeky glitter in his eyes. She wondered if she was being as played as he was. If that was the case, she wondered if he also felt so…blindsided. It was both of them at once trying to get the upper hand in a battle, but knowing almost nothing about their opponent - forget knowing anything about the reason behind the battle in the first place. All she knew was that she suddenly felt a competitive urge, and she was definitely not about to lose.

Fire ignited, she tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Thank you," she murmured back, an equal glint in her gaze. "So, this is the new owner we've all heard so much about?"

"That's me. So what'd ya hear?"

"Good things…mostly…" she trailed off suggestively.

"Aw, c'mon, what bad things could you have heard about moi?" he chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He extracted the poker chip she'd seen him with earlier, and flipped it was ease. "I'm a very, very good guy."

"We'll see," came her silky reply. She turned her attention briefly back to Boomer. "How's he measure up, boss?'

"Your _new_ boss," he answered with a wink, "has a good head on his shoulders, but we'll just watch how it goes, eh?"

"So little faith," Tony countered, joining in their banter. "You'll be surprised at my abilities."

Roxie snorted. "Abilities? Is he a show dog or a casino owner?"

"My money's on the dog," Boomer stage-whispered.

"I'll be _working_ like a dog," Tony groaned dramatically, slumping against his barstool.

Roxie found herself amused at his adolescent exclamation. Already, she thought of him as a man with many, many faces, and yet she couldn't figure him out. Out of all these identities, which one was the one to appeal to? Which one was the true Tony?

Tony himself was thinking similar thoughts. She was full of life and spark, but those eyes were serious. She was puzzling and unusual, even though she seemed innocent. Roxie Brennan was an unknown, and Tony was treading carefully. What hidden motives were lurking in that endless blue gaze?

Roxie pursed her lips in contemplation, and sidled over to the stool on Tony's right, taking care to graze him ever so slightly with her hip. The perky blonde sitting there gave her one disdainful look, but Roxie's glare and the intimidation in her stance had her sliding meekly off the seat seconds later. Easing herself primly onto the stool, she took a cigarette from her purse, rifling through various items in her search for a lighter.

"Here."

Turning, she found herself only inches from the worn face of Tony Scallion. Her breath caught at their proximity, and she noted in surprise the lighter in Tony's outstretched hand. With a flick of his thumb, the top swung off to reveal the flame, dancing back and forth as it breathed in the exposed air. She looked up into his dark eyes, noting again their soulful depths and the way the light of the flame flickered within them, lending a warmth to their hue that she hadn't noticed before. His dark pupils held more clandestine promises, and the flame within those black circles hinted at a passion she had yet to see; a scorching, deep-rooted desire. Without removing her gaze, she dipped the roll into the swaying yellow and blue light. Then, her lips formed a perfect "O," and her breath extinguished the flame, smoke fanning up through the air in its place. Her eyes darted back to his as he rolled it closed, and a matching glance passed between them.

"You know, Tony," she began again, working to suppress a second shiver, "you say you'll be working like a dog. Maybe that's true. But they don't call this America's Playground for nothing." Her eyebrows were raised, almost in challenge.

It was one he willingly accepted.

"Well then, let's play," he said, voice rumbling over her, and a knowing grin crossed her features as she took a drag and exhaled on her next words.

"Sweets! Some tequila, please. The gentleman's paying."

/

Boomer, amused at the verbal foreplay going on between the two, decided to withdraw from the conversation and observe from a distance when Roxie made her way to the bar, a sure sign she had things under control. He strolled over to the group of regulars, who were at their usual table, continuing their game of poker from earlier in the day. He pulled up a chair, but declined to join, instead watching absently as chips were exchanged and money thrown onto the table in random intervals. At last, he cleared his throat, and some looked up in interest. When Boomer had something to say, it wasn't just for the sake of saying it. An old guy like him who'd lasted as long as he had in Vegas was one you listened to.

"What did ya'll think of the new guy?" He spoke in low tones, as if worried of being overheard. He had nothing to fear, though - the bar was pulsing with energy and the voices of hundreds of people, and if he'd spoken any lower he wouldn't have been heard.

There was some shifting and exchanging of looks around the table before Danny, older and more distinguished than other patrons, scratched the black, curly beard on his chin and shrugged. "Well, he seemed very self-assured, although I have absolutely no idea if that's what you're seeking in a professional like yourself."

"I think he's got no problem with his attitude," Boomer spoke anxiously, rubbing his neck again, a sign of his agitation. "It's what I chose him for. But he's so young, ain't really had enough of the meal of the city, he's just got his first taste."

"Experience and age be damned," Brent growled, "I'm at least twenty years older than the guy and look where I am." A touch of jealousy was in his tone - it was no secret that Brent tended to lose work and money like other men might misplace their glasses, and Lady Luck tended to evade him in much the same way.

"Normally, I wouldn't be concerned," Boomer insisted, and he lowered his voice further before continuing, "but you all have heard how Minus is coming to town, right?"

Instantly, the group at the table went silent. Scottie went white, and Danny's deep voice quietly intoned, "Good God." The air of camaraderie had instantly morphed into something far stranger and more sinister, and Charlie, who'd rejoined the table after his stint at the bar, showed confusion on his young face. He slowed his approach, pulling out his chair carefully while he spoke.

"Who's Minus?"

All eyes focused upon him in varying degrees of shock. "_Who _is_ Minus?_" Brent choked out, spluttering on his beer.

"Did you ever hear the tale of King Midas, Charles?" Danny questioned.

The man in question looked skeptical. "'Everything he touched turned to gold,' that Midas?"

"Precisely. Minus is a man of the same form of power… Only, it's all too often that everything he touches turns to nothing."

"Hence the name."

"Hence the name," Danny echoed with a nod. "It's quite a curse, actually," he mused aloud, peering into the depths of his glass, "for he controls what flourishes and what does not in Vegas."

"And he's had an eye on the Coliseum for years," Boomer interrupted.

"Wait, wait, how's he control all that? The Strip's a big place; can't be run by one guy," came Charlie's protest, but Boomer was already waving him off.

"He's brilliant, for just being a kid. IQ through the ionosphere or something. The social skills of a goldfish, but when you're smart you can make money real fast, and men like money. They'd do anything for it; the way the guy who gives it to ya acts doesn't matter.."

Realization appeared in his eyes. "Is he part of…ya know…the mob?" It was a scandalized whisper, but he spoke almost reverently, like a child recalling old bedtime stories of mystery and excitement and danger.

Everybody shrugged in unison at the inquiry, but Boomer was the one who kept talking, his eyes staring into an unseen distance. "I believe it, but nobody is really sure. Some think he is, some think he's just a pawn in another person's game. But one thing's for sure," he spoke in resignation, "he's out for the Coliseum. I thought once I let it go, he'd lay off, but it seems I'm not the problem. And now, he's gonna be Tony's problem."

"Why's he want the casino so bad?"

"There's money, of course. And it's popular. But I think there's something more he wants…" Boomer trailed off, still staring into space, face pale under the shadows thrown by the hanging lights. In his line of vision, he watched as Roxie's nails brushed against Tony's thigh, and they laughed together at some shared joke, heads only inches apart with eyes that never severed the connection between them.

He realized Tony had more to worry about than he thought.

/

"…And I said, 'Oh please, Kimble, the only one who wants to see that is your mirror.'"

Roxie dissolved into laughter, clutching his arm so as not to fall off the barstool. It had already been two hours, but she hadn't noticed the passing time. She'd been entertained by him, the alcohol, and his stories - although, to be honest, she wasn't really catching the details of what he spoke. She was caught up in the energetic way in which he told his tales; the bright spark in his eyes as he'd recount some past fact, and the way his strong arms gestured animatedly. There was the way his lips slid over his easy words, and the smile that would cross them when he was silent, or the way the muscles in his jaw worked as he thought of something new to say, a curious, calculating look glazing his eyes. She'd come no closer to discovering the enigma that he was, but she was finding herself drawing closer and closer to him. Every now and then, she'd let her shoulder brush his as she reached for her drink, or her hand would fall innocently against his arm, eager to feel the muscles underneath his jacket ripple in response.

The attention wasn't all one-sided - Tony, too, was enraptured by her. She was intriguing in the best of ways, and baffling in the worst. He couldn't, for all the time they'd spent there, discern just what she was up to. Gradually, however, that had ceased to matter. He was focusing more often on the way she laughed, a husky tone that thrilled him down to his cock. She kept it up, and things were going to get messy real fast. But he continued making her laugh, just to hear it, just to see her throw back her head and expose the long, pale line of her throat; just to watch a glint of pure mirth build up in her eyes before spilling over in that wonderful sound.

They had started out just talking, about anything and everything, and the conversation flowed easily; more easily than Roxie had ever spoken with someone. It was as if he knew just what to say to glean that little bit of information that would make her open up and share. Unnerving, yes, but enthralling.

And so here they were, almost unable to run out of things to say.

"I take it Kimble didn't react too well to that, hm?" she asked with a laugh, resting her head on her hand and staring up at him with wry interest.

He snorted into his drink. "Not really, but what was he gonna, do, ey? The guy's what, a hundred pounds? He wouldn't dare try anything."

"Oh?" she remarked.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but the grin never left his face. "Why, you want to try something?" he asked wickedly.

Again there was that challenge, burning in his eyes, reflecting within hers. She'd opened her mouth to reply, her pretty red lips forming around the words, when Vinny's voice interrupted.

"Last dance of the evening, all you party people. Get out on that dance floor and show off those moves," he crooned into the mic, before setting a disc to play.

An idea appeared in her mind, and she shot a glance at him, still waiting for her reply. Her mouth settled into another flirtatious grin, before she leaned in close and whispered, "There is something I'd like to try." Her fingers gripped his arm and pulled him off of his seat, the both of them stumbling and laughing across the floor.

Her warm breath against his cheek had put him in a fog, and the alcohol also had him in something of a stupor, so he was shocked to find himself on the dance floor only moments later, lights and music and the heat of hundreds of bodies washing over him.

But shocked didn't begin to compare to what he felt next.

As the first beats, low and insistent and primal, strained through the amps, she got so close to him he had to look down to see her face. When he did, he almost came in his pants - her eyes had gone almost black, and their playfulness was now replaced by a hungry desire. When she inhaled, her breasts pushed up against his chest, and he struggled to suppress a groan.

"Roxie…" he began in an insistent whisper, but she shushed him, instead turning around and leaning back into him. Automatically, his hands fell to her hips, molding perfectly to their flared curves, and her head tilted back, rotating to lie against his shoulder, leaving that smooth, pale neck exposed to him again.

_Oh, God, _the last of his self-control rasped before giving up completely, and he leaned down, his nose grazing her porcelain skin, inhaling deeply. _Jasmine._

The revelation was paired with the equally mesmerizing sensation of her ass grinding back into him, swaying in time to the rhythm, and he had no choice but to move along with her. The pounding bass paired with the throbbing in his entire body, and the pressure was building, building, building with no place to go. He was going to explode -She turned in his arms, her eyes hooded, her lips just inches from his -and at that sight, he did.

His lips crashed down onto hers, rough hands fastening in a vice-like grip around her waist and crushing her to him, every inch of their bodies fitting seamlessly together. She gasped into his mouth as she was yanked against him, But her recovery was swift - it wasn't long before she was responding with equal passion, eagerly allowing her hands to rush up to his head, fingers clenching in the short hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him down into her; her mouth demanded more and more with every scrape of her tongue against his lips, begging entrance. He willingly gave in, tongue breaching the distance to tangle with hers as his lips continued to move desperately against her own. Her throaty moan as he nipped at her bottom lip only fueled him onwards, but she pulled away at the last moment, her teeth grazing his jaw as she struggled to master her control, breathing heavily, her eyes wild.

"Fuck," he breathed, his forehead falling against her own, and she chuckled weakly, hands whispering down across his shoulder to rest against his heaving chest, the banded muscles leaping under her touch.

"Now _that_," she murmured as the music died, her lips still so close he could feel them moving on every syllable, "is something else I'd like to try."

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_Leave a review to let me know how you felt about this chapter! I'll give you an air-conditioning unit - we might need it for the next chapter ;D Hehe, hope you enjoyed!_


	5. Chapter 5

_After endlessly debating whether 'alit' or 'alighted' is the proper past tense form of 'alight' and wondering whether more paragraph breaks were needed, I decided just to go ahead and post this chapter. And, you know, after freaking out slightly over the fact that this is my first REAL, non-dramatized smut! Eek! :] Besides that, this chapter is a little on the short side, but I hope it's worth it. Also, don't forget to read the A/N I have at the bottom of this piece; it contains some information about future updates that will keep you from being confused in the coming days. All that said and done, read on!_

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Rain crashed down from the sky above, streaking like missiles towards the ground where they exploded, a thousand little drops sparking back into the air before coming to rest in puddles on the ground. Lightning reflected in the pools of water as it scoured the roiling black masses above with an instant of brilliance, electricity crackling on the air as it faded a moment later, sparks guttering as they hit the cool rain. Thunder followed, chasing the lightning with an ominous rumble, growling out its displeasure. Clouds blanketed the horizon, shades of deepest onyx to indigo and grey swarming for position as they pushed and tumbled in the wind, which howled ungodly moans as it coursed through the city.

It was a storm Vegas hadn't seen in years.

The man was standing amidst it all on a drenched sidewalk, his battered umbrella struggling in vain to free itself from his iron grip. He only held on tighter, peering into the night with an almost crazed desperation. His boots were soaking through, water seeping through the mesh to lap against his toes, but he needed to wait. Biding his time, waiting for what he dreaded was coming…

There.

He watched as six houses down from him, a taxi cab pulled up to the curb, tires screeching on the wet pavement. Seconds later, a door opened, and a man jumped out. He was broad-shouldered, with a face that looked rugged and dark from even yards away, and an entire air that was almost brutally handsome. The woman he helped step out next was beautiful beyond compare, almost terminally pretty; her quickly-soaked red dress molded to sinful curves, and she had eyes that pierced the night as strongly as the lightning. She refused his arm as she stepped away from the cab, instead kissing him fiercely before turning and dragging him towards the building, their loud, intoxicated laughter echoed by a drum roll of thunder, the crack of the lightning that came immediately with it shaking the buildings surrounding the street.

The man shuddered, but not in response to the cold. What he'd seen would likely spell danger for the new casino owner and his lovely lady friend, and he knew it was his job to report it. It had always been his job, it was just what he did.

But maybe he didn't want to do it anymore.

His breath quickened, puffs dawning in the cold air before being sliced away by the violent downpour. He'd thought about quitting before, but he'd never had the opportunity to do so. Now here he was, alone, in a rough-weather night that would wash away his trail. He could tell the guy who hired him what he wanted to know… or he could vanish; an apparition that simply disappeared when the morning came, leaving not a trail behind him. Instead, he could create a new person, and expose them all for what they really were, and warn the two he'd seen by doing so. He could be free.

He cast once around him, twice, heart in his throat, but it was just him in the cold, dark night.

And then even he was gone, the night enveloping him as he walked away from what he'd known before, and his euphoric laugh at finally realizing his liberation was swallowed by the thunder's endless roll.

/

They raced down the hall to his apartment, breathlessly laughing the entire way, Roxie nearly crashing into Tony as he stopped at his door. He reached into his pocket with trembling fingers, her hot mouth sucking beads of water off the side of his neck not helping his concentration any as he dug his keys out and struggled to fit them in the keyhole. They rattled against the metal of the doorknob as he turned it this way and that, a sigh of relief sent skyward as he pushed the door inwards. A last, daring scrape of her tongue into the hollow of his throat, and she was striding in ahead of him, stopping as she came into the center of the room. The apartment was in shadow, the raging storm outside lending no light to the dim space, but she could see the outlines of the open room, the figure of a couch slouching near her, a table and chairs on her opposite side leading to the kitchen. Past that, things were indefinable, and the darkness gave it an air of dangerous unknown.

"Like what you see?" came the murmured voice from behind her, and she stiffened, having forgotten he was there. But now, she was all too aware: his words had been uttered right next to her ear, his lips rasping against the outer shell, and even now that he was silent she could feel him next to her, a looming shadow with a hand cupping her hip, and a heart that beat against her back, thudding from him, into her.

She turned, his hand sliding along her body and pulling her flush against him, the other coming to rest against her opposite hip. She peered into the pitch black of the room, the deeper hue of his eyes staring back at her. A smile quirked her lips. "Now I do." He could have sworn her eyes blackened to match his own before she tilted her head up and captured his mouth, the hands on his chest fisting powerfully in the sodden material of his shirt, pulling him to meet her. He did, gladly, his heated lips against hers, tongue probing her mouth, stroking along her teeth. When his hands fell lower, gripping her ass and fondling her curves, her gasp turned into a whimper, and with a sudden ferocity she pushed him back, slamming him against the door. His own exclamation of surprise morphed into a groan as she began working the buttons of his shirt, expert fingers gripping the slippery surface of each and sliding it through, her excited breaths only escalating as his lips left her own in favor of her throat, returning the favor that had driven him crazy just moments before. Her head fell back, eyes closing in pleasure as he nipped in sharp little bites along her neck, just under her jaw, tongue tracing the rim of her ear and closing on the lobe when he reached it.

Her impatience grew with her arousal, and she ripped the last buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his thick shoulders. "Too many damn buttons," she grumbled, and he chuckled, the sound muffled as she found his lips again, bringing his head back to her own. He slanted against her mouth, hands tunneling into her hair to bring her closer. Her own hands roamed the endless expanse of his chest, the hairless surface hot and flat against her palms. She broke the kiss to gaze in wonder at the smooth muscles that lay rock-solid beneath taut skin, her fingers tracing mindless paths towards his abdomen, finally resting on the button at the very edge of his jeans. A devilish fire lit her eyes, and she gripped his prominent erection through his pants. He groaned from where he'd been watching her examine him like some sort of voyeur, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he worked to keep his eyes from falling shut. When she cupped him in her hands and stroked over him once, twice, he hissed, and his jet-black eyes flew open. His hands were immediately digging into her arms, fingers leaving red marks against her pale skin, and he whirled them around. Her body cracked against the door to a beat of thunder, lightning illuminating her form. For just a moment, she was ethereal: eyes gone silver in the white varnish it cast, hair wild from tousled caresses, her dress bleached, and her skin sparkling from the millions of tiny drops that caught the light and refracted in his eyes.

Milliseconds later the vision was gone, but the image of her pale figure practically waiting to be devoured was burning in his mind, and his shadow fell over her as he cornered her against the door - but the only threat in the stance was a promise to satisfy the growing ache in her core enough to leave her boneless. She practically shuddered in relief as he splayed his hands along her abdomen, sweeping up to roughly caress the sides of her breasts, knuckles rasping against them through the still-wet fabric. Her nipples pebbled deliciously in response, straining through her dress, and when he lowered his head to draw one between his lips, she cried out, hands gripping his head and holding him there, brushing through his water-beaded hair in frenzied encouragement. His other hand inflicted a similar torture on the neglected breast, calloused thumbs brushing over the pert surface, tweaking and twisting and pushing her higher and higher with every touch. Panting, she at last drew him up when she could take it no more, and both of them breathing heavily stared each other down a for a few moments. The seconds ticked by. A gleam in her eye, she suddenly grinned with an all-knowing air, before she leaned down. Mesmerized, he waited as she slipped her hands beneath the folks of her crimson dress. In the darkness, he heard the sound of fabric hitting the hardwood floor.

_Oh God. Was that - ?_

Her panties gone, she straightened, and before he could move she was throwing herself on him frantically, leaping up to meet his lips and sealing their skin by the rainwater and sweat mixing between them both.

He was unprepared for her sudden assault, and they both crashed to the floor. "Easy there, honey," he choked out as he struggled up onto his elbows, but she was unfazed, and a predatory grin alighted upon her features. She pushed him back down with a hard prod in the center of his chest as she straddled him, the finger trailing back down, down, down to where her hands had been toying with his jeans button before. The clasp easily slid through, and the zipper was next, its teeth giving way before her eyes. Before he knew it, she was coaxing his hips upwards and drawing his pants and boxer briefs down and away, and his penis sprang free. She took it in her busy little hands, fondling his balls as her thumb stroked along his shaft.

"God, baby," he grunted, working to keep his hips from jerking too wildly into her touch. "Ah, damn… So…so good," he croaked as she tightened her grip around him, and he could feel the heat radiating from her center as she rocked back against his thighs. The dual sensations of her talented fingertips and the evidence of her arousal - _Shit, could he really be smelling her from here?_ - were driving him crazy, and with the willpower of ten men his hands shot out and pulled at her wrists. Her innocent blue eyes as she looked to him in surprise were a stark contrast to how hard she'd managed to make him in a matter of moments. "You don't stop, and we're going to have a serious problem on our hands," he clarified hoarsely, and she only nodded, and he knew, although he couldn't see, that she was probably smirking in a way that would make him want to kiss the damn thing right off her face.

And so he did.

Pulling her back down with him, his hands spanned her back, pulling her tight against his chest. As they kissed, his tongue tracing her upper lip, her pale white arms pushed upwards from above his shoulders, trembling as she leaned down to bit his lower lip for one moment before releasing him and straightening again, settling against his stomach and placing her hands instead atop his chest. Her center was absolutely drenched, and as she tilted back along his stomach he could feel the trail of her arousal following. His own hand drifted to his cock in anticipation, and when it was met by her sure hands he looked up and met her eyes, almost brilliant from an inner light. Excitement, desire, passion, all reflected back at him in the gloom, and together they guided him to her entrance, and then he was sheathed in her wet heat.

"Fuck," she inhaled sharply, and his answering cry echoed throughout the empty apartment. He throbbed inside her, begging her to move, needing to feel himself sliding in and out of that searing, liquid cavern. She pulsed briefly around him, stretching before she rose up, the tip of him only enveloped by her tight flesh before she suddenly slammed back down, her hips swiveling wickedly as she repeated the motion, breathless sighs passing through her parted red lips. His hands clung to her, fingers digging into her sides with the same intensity as hers scraping atop his chest, finding a hold as she gathered her rhythm and began rising and falling steadily, more soft mewls coming from her throat. His own breathing shortened, and he began urging her on, his quiet encouragement and groans lost to the sound of her increasingly louder cries as her hips moved faster and faster over him. Whimpers had turned to moans, and moans to shrieks as she picked up the pace, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she rocked back and forth and up and down, riding him with pure, unadulterated abandon. His own pleasure was forgotten on the tide of hers, watching in wonder as a pink flush blossomed along her collarbone and stretched along her limbs, staining her cheeks as she approached the edge.

"So sexy, babe. So fucking hot," he murmured, his hand snaking down, thumb passing over her clit in tempo with her thrusts, unable to tear his eyes away. It was the final trigger, and she shattered with a scream of his name, weakly rocking against the final waves before she collapsed against him, her sweat drenched neck fitting under his as her body spasmed with tiny tremors of fulfillment.

Tony wasted no time in flipping them over, and she lay against the hardwood floor, cold in contrast to the delectable heat that was coursing throughout her entire body. She stared up at him, her look utterly sated and so sultry he almost came right then and there. But he prolonged the pleasure, sinking into her once again, driving deep home. Her long legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him back when he pulled out again, and her hands reached up to soothe the red half-moons her fingernails had left on his chest. The touch of her fingers rocketed right down to the head that was enveloped in her body, and he let go of his self control with a groan, his whole body primed for release as he began thrusting hard and fast.

"Oh," he heard her moan, and looked down to find that pink flush dawning again along her ivory skin.

"Are you…again…?" he panted, never breaking the pace.

"Yes," she sighed, her eyes wide in surprise, before that look glazed with desire. "Oh, oh…yes… Tony, faster, faster…" The last word cut off on a squeal as he hit her G-spot, and he grinned darkly as he searched out that area again, increasing his pace and diving into her with everything she'd given him. That sexy sound parted her lips again, and as they both thundered toward the precipice he drove it out of her one last time. Her hands surrounded his body, and her nails pulled his own shout from him, and with one final thrust he was falling to the end. Feeling his hot load bursting within her was exactly what she needed to crest the rise one more time, and her howl lasted long after he'd collapsed against her, thrusting weakly with the aftershocks.

Eventually, her lips were only making quiet sighs, and both of them struggled for air. He moved to his side to give her room to breathe, his penis slipping from her body with the motion. But her arms, still clasped tightly around him, kept them connected as they rolled to face one another. The rainwater had been chased away by the heat of their loving and replaced by a thin sheen of sweat. A trembling hand reached up to wipe away a drop along his temple, and she felt his heartbeat throbbing in the muscle there, racing with the intensity of hers. Their eyes locked, and he gave her a cocky, if exhausted smile, his hand absently palming her waist, fingers sliding over her burning skin.

"So…twice, eh?"Her laugh was stained with incredulity. "I've never…that hasn't…happened before," she stammered, but then he saw her eyebrow arch in the dark. "Why? Think you can do better?"His rumbling laugh stretched across the shiny wood expanse in between them and intertwined with hers. She heard him shifting, and an achy sigh accompanied feet padding on the floor, and then his hand was before her, and his voice above.

"Come on. Let's go get you out of that dress."

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_Two things:  
First of all, I want to send a shout-out to my anonymous reviewers - I have no way to reply to you guys, but I still want you to know that I read them and treasure them and thank you so much for taking the time to review :]  
Secondly, there's an updating issue: okay, so, in the last chapter I said I was going away for 10 days, and that is still the case. What this means for you is no new updates until the first week of August or so, because I still have to type up the chapter when I get home from my forensics conference. I know, it's terrible! But don't worry; when that happens I will be free to write until I'm able to finish this thing, and hopefully get faster updates for you in the process. Still, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, but I hope this keeps you satisfied until then. Don't forget to leave a girl some feedback about that action up there. Totally tell me if you think I should never, ever, ever go there again ;D Hehe, see ya'll in August with chapter six!_


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